


Fair Enough

by ShadowMeld



Series: The Witcher ABO [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Dirty Talk, Jealousy, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Perhaps too liberal use of the word 'brat', Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spanking, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:22:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowMeld/pseuds/ShadowMeld
Summary: In which Jaskier continues to play the wanton, and Geralt does the public a service keeping his mischievous bard in line.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Witcher ABO [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607134
Comments: 26
Kudos: 2034
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	Fair Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This one goes out to all the people that encouraged this filth the last time. A continuation of sorts from Geralt's perspective.

Leaned over the bar in avid conversation was his bard, tunic scandalously open as he talked the innkeeper out of a tankard of ale. Why Jaskier liked to play games like this even when he had adequate coin was lost to Geralt.

But when he saw the omega’s hand go to the scent patch on his throat again that was the last straw.

“ **Jaskier**!”

Geralt’s voice cut through the din with ease, and the flirty bard went abruptly stiff, red to his ears before he babbled some apologies and started his way back to the witcher.

Meanwhile a few of the townsmen chuckled, “seems the witcher's gotten impatient with his little bard’s swanning about.”

Geralt, for his part, didn’t spare them more than a dismissive glance. Instead he waited impatiently for his troublesome brat to return, looking chastened but attractively flushed as he cozied up to Geralt again. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Geralt. You know that, just a little promotion as it were, I would never be unfaithful…”

“Says the naughty bard that’s climbed out more than his fair share of bedroom windows.”

Jaskier didn’t have much to say to that it seemed, only letting a soft, coquettish trill rumble in his chest as he pressed closer than anyone else would reasonably dare. He was Geralt’s omega, so it was only natural he’d allow it, though his throaty little entreaty still received little more than a grumble in response.

The awful brat was still in trouble, and that wasn’t changing just because he wanted to give him cow eyes now and act all supple and omega. Such tactics got the bard out of a great many incidents, but not quite enough considering how many times Geralt had to pull his ass out of the fire.

“Give it a rest, Omega. We'll deal with this in the room.”

Pressed tight like they were he could feel the delicate shiver travel through the brunette's slim form, see the warmth still coloring his cheeks. “We—we don’t have to do that. I think I’ve well learned my lesson now.”

“Oh, have you? And what if I said it wasn’t up for negotiation with ill-behaved bards?”

“Geralt, please…” he may have taken more heed if he couldn’t smell arousal flaring up on the omega like heat on a stove.

“We'll discuss this later, Jaskier. Go back to your singing. Just be back before it gets too late.”

After a few more moments of the sad puppy act Jaskier seemed to sense that the witcher would remain unmoved, finally huffing in that distinctly petulant way of his before pressing their throats together briefly and trotting off.

Of course now Jaskier smelled of him, the sneaky devil, and against his will the white haired alpha felt himself relaxing minutely even as Jaskier smiled attractively and started in once more with his lute. It was no wonder the mischievous thing had survived so long considering his ample talents for getting into trouble. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately for the pretty omega, the witcher had a long memory and he would not be getting out of things so easy, no matter how nice he smelled. In fact, Geralt didn’t doubt it was nearly a public service keeping such a force for chaos in line.

***

Long before the night’s end Geralt retired to the room they had rented at the inn. It was a luxury they couldn’t always afford, but a pleasant thing when they could manage it.

Predictably, the bard was taking his dear sweet time, and the witcher used the omega’s petulance to get to cleaning and preparing his things. They’d be setting out again tomorrow, no doubt Jaskier would be regretting his loose ways when he was trying to ride a horse with a sore behind.

The thought made the barest smile touch the witcher's lips. He’d had time for a bath, and he didn’t doubt the bard would do the same. He could be imminently predictable when he was feeling contrite, same as when he was attempting to weasel himself out of trouble.

His blades now sharp as ever and oils prepared there was nothing to do but wait for the pretty omega he heard shuffling outside his door to finally make it in. He supposed a kinder man might say something, but the Witcher was more than content to wait, smelling the bard’s anxiety and arousal curl under the door like wood smoke.

It was long moments before he finally heard the soft knock on the door, too quiet for the boisterous man behind it. And again he kept quiet, waited until the pretty omega’s own impatience got the best of him and he peeked inside. Wide silk blue eyes appeared at first, then a soft face, before the omega shuffled fully inside. The scent patches weren’t in evidence, just freshly washed omega looking exceptionally vulnerable in a dressing gown and little else.

It was a ruse of course, he knew well enough that Jaskier was a force to be reckoned with when he wanted to be. It took a brash bit of something to seduce a witcher, particularly one that didn’t want to be bewitched. It was more impressive still to tempt the man into courting him himself. No, Geralt hadn’t lived so long underestimating someone for having a pretty face or easy manner. Jaskier could bespell a crowd as well as any sorceress when he put his mind to it, he was sure of that.

“H-hello again, Geralt. Alpha,” naturally the bard’s voice took on a lyrical note, just as welcoming as the fragile silks between them.

“Omega,” he acknowledged, letting his own pleasure permeate his scent, just enough to take the edge of the bard’s anxiety as he watched Geralt sat on the edge of the bed. He patted his lap, and watched the Jaskier’s breath halt in a shudder, tasting the air grow thick and wet with slick he knew was leaking between those slim thighs.

“Maybe… perhaps we could talk about this?”

Geralt shook his head, unable to stop the twist of amusement at his lips. The bard had always looked so attractive squirming, he supposed it was fortunate he did it a lot.

“Right-right, not one for talking,” that throat was touched with an artful blush, as Jaskier looked off to the side, fine musician’s hands twisted in the silk of his undergarments. “I just thought you should know that thinking about it, I'm feeling terribly sorry about all that… carousing. I’ve seen the error of my ways, a changed man, I am. So why don’t we forget all this and—”

“Jaskier. Come _here_ ,” his voice was soft, but the bard still jumped, the expanded pupils of his bright eyes all but eclipsing the blue.

It took a moment, but it seemed that at last the naughty little omega realized he wasn’t getting out of anything. By slow, careful steps Jaskier approached, pampered hands with their nails buffed to a shine settling on the witcher's broad shoulders. He leaned in with that soft mouth, petal pink and though he wanted to be stern the monster hunter couldn’t help but take a taste. Jaskier was as always soft, careful and tentative before a nip from Geralt’s sharp teeth had him whining, trying to crawl astride his lap before the larger man finally put a stop to it.

“Ah, Omega. Not so fast. We have business to attend to first.”

The brunette was flushed, smelling like sex already as his dressing gown hung off one white shoulder. “Are you sure? We can just do this, I'm ready, Alpha. Come on, it’s been days… can you blame me for feeling a bit eager? Do your duty, end this omega’s suffering.”

A persuasive argument to be sure, but if he gave into the brat when he was looking pretty the witcher would do little else. “Nice try, Jaskier. But we have ‘talked’ about this, as you so enjoy doing, before. Now let’s get this over with. Be a good boy, omega. Then you can get all the tending to that you desire.”

The hot, quivering whine that issued from the bard’s throat made even the Witcher groan, his hands tightening against the creamy hips in his grip. Fuck. His teeth clenched, but he slid his hands down to grip the lovely bottom and swore as he felt the slick. “Be good, Jaskier.”

A tremble and fragrant gush had Geralt swallowing, but finally he felt more than saw the bard nodding, pulling back to lay himself over the witcher’s leatherclad thighs. Low, and rumbling with a growl, the witcher stripped the dressing gown the rest of the way off the omega. Gods above he was a sight, so very human… flushed and trembling with a myriad of excitements and anxieties. His thighs were also impressively drenched, making it clear that at least one thing was true; the omega was more than ready for their fucking after.

He used the discarded gown to clean up a bit, not wanting to get too distracted by the fragrant scent of arousal. “G-Geralt…” that sweet voice whined all the while, squirming attractively again.

“Impatient now?”

“You-you’re a right bastard you know.”

“That seems no way for a naughty little bard to talk.” The words brought a bit more trembling, and the mutant watched fascinated at how the behind positioned over his lap flexed and tilted eagerly into his hand. 

“I’m not n-naughty, you’re just mean.”

Without any warning at all the witcher’s had came down in a crisp spank to the perky bottom presented to him. “That’s a lie if I ever heard one. You are a terribly ill-behaved omega. Fortunately for you, I don’t generally mind. But that doesn’t mean I'll play the cuckhold to a little brat who can’t keep his bloomers tied.”

After that followed another spank, this one on the other cheek. The bard didn’t seem to have much to say anymore, just whines turning into trembling moans as the crisp swats turned into a rhythm properly warming the omega’s smart behind. “If you need this slutty body fucked, you'll come to me, or not at all. Do you understand?”

He punctuated the statement with a series of stern spanks to the tender undercurve of the pink bottom before him. 

“Yes! Yes, Alpha,” Jaskier whined, and though his face was turned into the covers Geralt could smell the tears that accompanied his sniffles.

He was quite the vision; skin so delicate it took little effort to have it glowing red. But Geralt was determined to be firm with him. The bard was an incorrigible brat, which didn’t necessarily bother him, but it warranted a bit of minding on occasion. He found a proper spanking to an omega’s bare bottom did a lot to discourage the worst of Jaskier’s trouble. At least for a little while.

And so he set to work coloring the omega’s pretty ass further. Settling in to a hard several smacks to the places he knew the brat was most tender, pleased when even as the sobbing started his lovely omega was still obedient enough not to cover, just going limp and trusting that his alpha knew when he had been punished enough.

It was a heady feeling that trust, and he was careful not to abuse it. The witcher stopped once the bard was a sniffling puddle, his bottom brilliantly red but not quite bruised. He wanted the omega remorseful, but not harmed, and it seemed he was as Geralt rubbed the hot and no doubt stinging flesh and heard a throaty little purr start up.

The brunette was limp at first as he hauled him up astride his lap, but soon enough his arms were tight around the witcher and clinging.

“Oh Geralt, witcher… alpha… I'm sorry. I'll be good, I swear. So good for you…” he whined, and Geralt could feel the omega’s swollen cock pressed firm against his belly through his tunic. Such a terrible slut. It made the alpha smile despite himself, his hand rubbing up and down the bard's shaking spine as he worked out his sniffles.

“I know you will, Julian. Now… you think you’re ready for that fuck?”

“Gods, yes.” The omega’s slim body rubbed firmly against him and he could feel the slick and precum soaking through his clothes, the deep purr in response rolling through them both.

He kept the bard cradled as he rose from the bed, careful with the sweaty troubadour as he set him face down on the sheets. As much as he might like to fuck face to face after such a moment he doubted the omega’s punished bottom would thank him. Not to mention the view was nothing to dismiss as his gentle manipulations brought the musician back to presentation. His behind was as red as the doublet the dandy had been flaunting himself in earlier, and his hole between equally red and swollen, wet with so much slick already.

“Jaskier… did you touch yourself in that bath of yours?” he inquired, lips pressed against the bottom quivering before him.

“N-no…” came the quivering response, and damned if he hadn’t heard anything sound so false.

“Do you really want to lie to me right now, Omega?”

There was a high whine before the bard buried his red face deeper into the sheets, raising his bottom up higher. A whimper when he gave it another smack. One of many if Jaskier wanted to continue being bad.

“Wait...wait… Maybe I did a little… please, Alpha. It’s been too long.”

“It wouldn’t be if you’d behave, you should know better than to touch my things without permission, bard.”

He felt the bit of tension stir up, amused at how no matter what they did the bard still had the spirit in him to get a little stroppy. “Well, if you'd touch these things more often, I might not need to—”

Another crisp spank followed and Jaskier’s shoulders dropped back to the sheets, his slim pink cock jerking visibly between his thighs. “What did I say about being good?”

“I’m sorry-sorry, please. Just _please_ …”

The witcher was stern, but he tried not to be cruel. So despite the omega’s whines Geralt pulled away enough to strip off the rest of his clothes. Jaskier was still squirming, a pitiful mass of frustrated excitement as Geralt took both well spanked cheeks into his hands, spreading them to lick the slippery arousal leaking from that tender opening. He’d considered sucking the bard’s pretty cock tonight, but considering his insolent behavior it was probably best to keep him of a more submissive mindset. Not much got the omega more desperate for cock then having his ass eaten out.

The witcher set himself to feasting, deaf to the sobs and pleas to follow. It didn’t take long to have the bard a puddle, babbling incoherently as the monster hunter worked in one finger after another. He was right to think the brat had played it, this hole was already so sweet and soft. Ready for his alpha to fuck.

He sighed against the omega’s slim back before he withdrew a bit, three fingers deep into the brunette while his other anointed his cock with the slippery evidence of omega lust. Some nights when they had time and a soft bed he’d play with the little spot inside the musician until he sang sweeter than he had in any courtly halls. He could get louder than a brothel whore, and they'd certainly been run out of town a time or two due to the omega’s lovely tenor.

The town this time was fairly tolerant, and he was feeling just a bit too impatient not to enjoy the body offered so wantonly. After a few more generous strokes he lined himself up, rubbing the swollen tip against the bard’s fragile opening.

Jaskier tried to press back, but the witcher held him firmly still. Greedy brat. He’d get worked up and take too much, then try to complain about his ass hurting for days after, like he hadn’t done it to himself.

No, the witcher had learned to hold his omega very still, to control every aspect of the penetration. At least at first, until he got used to the heavy cock inside him.

“Please, please, please…” came the wet little prayers as Geralt finally pressed in, releasing a few blasphemies himself as he braced against how fucking amazing Jaskier felt inside. He’d opened him up, but still he was so damn tight, and the sight of that glistening hole stretched around him… A low growl stirred the air as he had to close his eyes against it for a moment, letting himself adjust to the flexing, sucking grip of the omega around him.

If the life of a troubadour didn’t work out, Jaskier would have made a hell of a whore, not that he wouldn’t tear someone apart who even thought of enjoying what was now his. Each slow thrust brought him in a little deeper. He worked in and out until at last he felt that burning behind pressed to his hips and groaned while Jaskier writhed.

It didn’t take him long to find the place they both needed, to hit it hard amidst the omega’s desperate cries. The bard was gorgeous when he fell apart, bucking into the rough fuck and scrambling for more.

He’d been so good Geralt couldn’t help but indulge him with a hand worked beneath the omega, wrapping around his pretty pink cock to give his slutty brat something to fuck into. It always delighted him to see the little bard rutting, to watch him try and take his pleasure like a man. “Go on, come. Come good and hard. Then I'll fuck you through it like the whore you are.”

Jaskier didn’t last much longer, and Geralt got to enjoy the shuddering clutch of his omega as he came around his cock like he was meant to.

Just as he’d promised the witcher fucked him through it, not letting up an instant even as the omega squirmed with oversensitivity. He’d push through it, and slowly the desperate, howling cries died off into desire again.

He had the bard twice more before he was finished, and the omega lay in an exhausted heap as he shifted him onto his chest. For a pure human the man had admirable stamina to still manage a delighted laugh and sonorous purr as he snuggled closer while they caught their breath. The bard just reeked of smug satisfaction, making Geralt roll his eyes. “You know if you’re feeling neglected, you could just ask for attention.”

“And where’s the fun in that, Geralt?”

Some alphas might have been bitter to be played, but Geralt… he liked the potent sweetness of omega pleasure more than stink of his own ego.

“Fair enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> A many thanks to all of you that were so good as to comment on the last one, it gave me the drive to make another naughty little interlude <3


End file.
